The Ebon Path
by Veraduxxz
Summary: Freed from the Lich King's grasp, Death Knights were free to forge their own path. Yet without memories of whom they used to be, but with memories of what they have done as agents of the scourge, many were troubled with finding their place amongst the ranks of their faction. A Tauren Death Knight struggles with his awakening and with the help of his companions, will forge his path.


AN : Hello there! Welcome to "The Ebon Path", a story about a Tauren Death Knight coming to terms with himself and his being, and ultimately forging his own path. Now this author's note is primarily meant to warn you about the contents within this chapter and chapters to come. It's going to be a wild ride, not meant for children. Themes such as (extreme) violence, death and torture of the soul are going to be addressed as they are key to the lore of Death Knights. However it is by nature a story of growth of character and conviction. Regarding feedback for the story, Please review, or if you have questions, throw me a pm and I will respond. I hope you enjoy "The Ebon Path"!

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><p>When I awoke from the Lich King's grasp, I felt many things. Confusion, Agony, Emptiness, Anger, just to name a few of them. The rain was pouring down as if the world was about the end, which wouldn't have been far from the truth. The scourge taint colored the rain crimson, like the blood spilled on the holy ground of Light's Hope Chapel. The Argent Dawn's last stand had proven to be successful and the Ebon Knights of Acherus had been defeated. Yet when total defeat was certain, the Lich King himself had set foot on the last bastion of the Light to finish the Light off. In the darkest hour of Azeroth, inspired by the memory of his father, Lord Darion Mograine threw the Corrupted Ashbringer towards Lord Tirion Fordring. The will and purity of the light inhibiting Tirion caused the blade to purify itself and break Frostmourne's hold. The Lich King fled, and the Ebon Knights of Acherus had been freed from the Lich King's grasp. That included me. If I only could remember who I was. The memories of my atrocities at New Avalon were burned into my mind being the only identity I had right now. I remember executing a fellow tauren from the Argent Dawn. He spoke as if he knew me and looked upon me with horror to see what I had become. A killing machine.<p>

After our release, a new covenant was formed. Lord Tirion Fordring fused the Order of the Silver Hand and the Argent Dawn together, creating a new front to fight the Lich King called the Argent Crusade. Lord Darion Mograine forged the remnants of the Ebon Knights of Acherus into the Knights of the Ebon Blade, dedicating themselves to fighting the Lich King aswell. The Knights of the Ebon Blade were accepted among the ranks of the Alliance and the Horde, but distrusted massively among many ranks of the respective factions. I remember entering Orgrimmar for the first time. Or atleast I believe it was the first time. The gates were being fortified with Dark Iron and all sorts and manners of people had gathered to watch the Knights of the Ebon Blade enter the city. Fragments of being here before reappeared in my mind. Walking the pathways towards the flight tower and the Valley of Honor. I had walked them many times.

Guards spat at me, townsfolk threw rotten food at me. Not that it was bothering. Many bodily functions of mine had ceased to function and the plate armor I wore hid and protected me mostly. Unfortunately, some of my spiritual functions had ceased to function as well. The Tauren are a peaceful folk that revere the Earthmother and live in harmony with the spirits in Mulgore, but the spirits no longer communed with me. At times it felt like they detested me. I had no memory of whom I was, yet the spirits alone held the answer to me. The ceremonies for the Knights of the Ebon Hold were quickly completed, leaving us unaccepted but tolerated in the city. Recruiters for Guilds, Salesmen advertising their wares, Adventurers perusing the wares and generally making their way to the city. The city was breathing life, and it felt foul to my lungs. Many other Death Knights left the city as soon as they had entered to avoid the bustling people. As if on cue, one of the smaller races, a Blood elf, bumped into me.

"Excuse me." the elf quickly excused. Through my helmet I could not truly make out the form of the elf, but it was most definitely female by the tone of voice.

Half expecting the elf to sneer or atleast make a denigrating remark, the apology was surprising. I let out a low grumble, indicating my acknowledgement.

Just as the elf was about to continue her business, I could see her turn around and walk back to me.

"Wait, You're one of the Knights of the Ebon Blade aren't you?" she inquired. Again, I let out a low grumble.

"Hm. I expected you to reek of death more." she replied, putting a pondering finger to her lips and pulling it down, looking with exploring eyes as if to size me up.

Honestly, the attitude of the blood elf surprised me even more so than her apology.

"What's it to you then?" I replied in a cold manner.

It caused her to smirk. "I'm not afraid of you, Death Knight. Rather, I welcome our new allies, especially those with similar long-term goals.". The exploring gaze didn't end as she seemingly assessed what she was looking at.

_A breath of fresh air,_ I thought inwardly_, atleast she's not shunning me._

"Say, would you perhaps be looking for some work fit to someone of your caliber?" she put the hands to her sides and posed confidently.

"My caliber?" I replied. What was the elf getting at?

"Yes, Big Tauren Warrior type. Likes to fight scourge, ambition to kick some undead ass, that caliber." she stated, not leaving the pose. Her smirk started to turn into a smile.

"You could say that, how come?" I said to her.

"Because we could use you for a little party in the Borean Tundra. It's where the Horde's first foothold is on the west-coast of Northrend. It's a nice pay, but we need someone preferably.. how do I put it.. Well armored? Yes, well armored to deal with some of the scourge. You see, the hold has been being attacked by Nerubian forces for a while now. And our party is going to clean up those spiders. The pay is well and it'd grant you some favor within the Horde I'm sure. It seems you guys can use all the favor you could get." she explained.

I thought about it for a moment. I had nothing to lose except maybe what would be considered as "Life" albeit that the definition as probably different for the ones still alive and not undead. It'd grant me experience fighting the Scourge and money was never an unnecessary luxury, even within the ranks of the Ebon Hold. I scoffed inwardly at how easy the opponents would likely be.

"Sure." I replied, causing the elf to grin.

"Good! Also, the name is Nestariël." she shook my hand with both of her hands before walking away rather quickly, I set to follow her.

"Our companions are fellow adventurers. Your task will involve you keeping the enemies focused on you. That means whatever means necessary. Because while your thick Saronite plating will keep you protected our robes and leather will do much worse.' Nestariël explained, knocking at my plate armored shoulders while walking, "Not that it'd be too hard to miss a 11 foot Tauren.".

"And is your party okay with a Death Knight helping their endeavors against the scourge? I mean, I have been treated with contempt ever since I set foot in Orgrimmar. How will they treat me any different." I questioned, causing the elf to chuckle.

"You assume just because the general townsfolk of this city shun you, us adventurers will do too? Get rid of that gloom. Like I said; I welcome our new allies, and I am far from the only one. Some of us have even fought the original Death Knight known as Teron Gorefiend. Now I have not done that personally, however I have seen hardened veterans boast about weapons found in the Black Temple. If I hear those stories, and see their prizes, I can only guess about your strength. Converted heroes without limitations. It's interesting." she spoke, slowing her pace down as we walked towards the gates of Orgrimmar.

"Our limitations were our will and our lives amongst others. We were being controlled by the Lich King. Lord Tirion Fordring broke us free form the Lich King's grasp. And where the living will one day perish, to be buried and remembered, we will continue on living and gradually, much like Forsaken, rot and turn insane. Unless steps are taken to avoid this. And to keep our sanity, we must kill, torture and pillage. Even now my sword is trembling with hunger to shed blood, however my own will has returned to prevent me from murdering an ally. My kind is bred to kill, torture and pillage, we're mere tools of terror and barbarism to complete a goal, to destroy whatever our enemy is." I replied, nearly disgusted with her interest.

"You speak of this as if it's a major burden, yet you embrace what you are. Very unlikely coming from a Tauren as well, knowing how spiritual your kind is and such. But yes, you make a valid point, if you had to lose the essence of your being for great strength, that would be indeed be quite a big trade. I know surely there are some who would do it willingly, but I can also imagine those being turned involuntarily. I assume this has happened to you?" her finger went to her lip again as she looked over to me as she looked pondering.

The elf was increasingly getting on my nerves and yet getting to me. She made sense, however my stubbornness wasn't going to give a stranger the satisfaction of being right. "I feel no need to share what I remember from my past with you. I barely know you elf." I replied, with the same coldness I initially showed her at the start of our interaction.

"Now now, no need to become all hostile again. I like to have interesting discussions. As you have probably heard my people are one to easily succumb to power after our loss of the Sunwell. Many lost themselves to insanity and those who didn't attempted to feed on powers of a different kind, be it fel-magic or even the smaller scrying crystals for the truly desperate. Our attunement to magic was our great power, and our biggest downfall. Yet we stand as part of the Horde. I was merely prying for your motives. I have heard of several of the adventurers frequenting the Argent Dawn's encampments that they have found several Death Knights who had abandon their lives. Most of those were either Night Elf, Tauren or Draenei I was told, races all believing the undead are a major atrocity and abomination, which would be your greatest downfall. Now, as you have clearly shown by now, you need me to cut to the chase so I will. Why haven't you?" she replied, changing her look from pondering to more inquisitive at the moment.

I could not reply to the question, because I genuinely did not know. _Why am I still fighting? To sate the blade's hunger? To destroy the Lich King? What __**is**__ my motive?_ I started to resort to my mind, the void of where memories once should have been was echoing the thoughts back at me, returning no answers to work with. "I don't know. Yet I know I'm here. And I'll do whatever it takes will stop the Lich King from creating more Death Knights from the fallen heroes."

The elf scoffed. "By the Sunwell, do you even believe what you just said? _'Oh yeah I'm going to do whatever is in my power to stop the Lich King so more people don't suffer the fate have, oh woe is me.'. _You sound as if your self-sacrifice should be commended and applauded yet you don't even know why you're really still around. Nobleness will get you nowhere and, especially when it's coming from a former agent of the very thing you're supposedly going to stop, it's sounding ridiculous. But alas, not everyone knows their paths or their convictions, much less you 'Knights of the Ebon Blade'. This is what I meant to say when I said 'Get rid of that gloom'. Your utter contempt of yourself is making you seem weak and pretending to work for the greater good isn't helping your case."

Again her words stung as they remained true. How was this elf so good at dissecting the troubles and workings of my mind? I felt my rage growing however as she spoke each word.

"I mean, look at you, you're a Sunwell-be-damned Tauren, Alliance will cower before you when they see your race wearing heavy plate armor in battle as you deflect blows as if there's toddlers kicking against your ankleguards! Yet you bring pity to yourself instead of demanding respect!" she continued, her tone growing increasingly more energetic. My rage was not diminishing as she spoke, rather growing to the extent of creating unrest in my hands as I balled my hands into fists.

"At the very least you could show some pride or arrogance regarding your prowess in combat and whom you are!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as she shouted, only barely raising her voice high enough to make it a shout in the mingled sounds of the city. However it sparked the fire of my rage as it started to burn.

I turned to the elf and looked at her as if I could kill her with my gaze alone. "Do you think I enjoy being designed to kill? To have no recollection of whom I was before I was resurrected to be a killing machine for an evil force's personal slaughter of an entire settlement. Men, women and children murdered in cold blood as there was only the booming voice of the Lich King commanding me his will to guide me along, with a sword demanding me to bathe it in the blood of my enemies. I have no purpose except for to destroy the one who did this to me! _**And by the honor of whom I once was I will fight to see the day that that tyrant Arthas falls!**_". At this point I was fuming, not wavering my gaze as our stare kept on, mine set to kill if needed, hers continuously prying into my head.

Our stare continued for a little bit, then the elf chuckled and her eyes turned kinder. "Now are you finally done with the self-wallowing?". A confident grin spread across her face as she continued out of the Valley of Strength to cross the gate into Durotar.

Then it dawned on me. She forced me to define my motives for myself. To have a goal instead of to float about without a purpose. She figured me out and gave me what I needed. I shook my head and grinned, following after her as I felt a sense of relief and renewing.

After walking along to the zeppelin tower outside of Orgrimmar, I finally reinitialized our conversation. "How exactly did you know?" I asked her. "Know what?" she replied, the confident grin giving her a rather goofy look. "That I had basically had no idea what to do anymore, that I had lost my sense of purpose." I replied again. As we walked the steps up to the zeppelin's base and awaited our ride to the Borean Tundra, she replied "Sometimes, getting mad at what caused a situation to happen is a better placement for hatred than the situation itself. Blaming yourself for dying and being resurrected is plain idiotic. Rather be prideful you were deemed worthy enough to get bestowed a great power upon, and use that power to grant others that which was taken from you. Peace. Yet destroying oneself to resolve a situation is not how one ought to fix it. I merely talked you into realizing that yourself." she replied, the grin turning into a genuine heartfelt smile, atleast I thought so because feelings of sentiment weren't much integrated into my mind anymore.

"In order to restore peace to our world, the Lich King must fall. But fighting for your own ideals and beliefs is much fiercer than fighting for someone else's beliefs. How I knew? Because I have been on that same crossroad after Arthas destroyed the Sunwell. I vowed to assure his downfall as well, and through adventuring I became more experienced and have gotten more items which are enchanted to make me stronger, smarter, more agile or more enduring. Starting at the minor tasks and learning what you can do to reach your goal is what is going to make you able to reach it better and faster. " she continued, "You and I are not much different from each other. I knew which words to use to get you to realize what your purpose was because the words were used to let me realize it as well."

"You seem wiser than you appear elf. I appreciate your words." I said, as we left for Northrend. The zeppelin was bound to take a few days to reach Northrend, so Nestariël retreated towards some of the quarters within the airship. Being undead gave me the advantage of not having to rest. Some of the Knights did, however most would be plagued by nightmares of the terrible things they had been forced to do. However this renewed vigor for adventure was bound to keep me awake. I pulled my runed sword, Coldbringer, out of the scabbard and sharpened it's edge with some of the sharpening stones gifted by the smith at the Ebon Hold. It's trembling started to subside with its edge being sharpened to slice through my enemies with relative ease. It kept me pre-occupied for a short while, however it could not keep me from wandering the ship. I found the small cargo hold of the primarily transport ship sufficient to work on my maintenance. Being undead meant that if I didn't take the proper care of my body, it would start to rot. Stripping off my armor, I grabbed ointments out of my pack and started rubbing them into my furred skin. Using blood magic I learnt, I revitalized my skin, setting the rot back for at least another week. Modern alchemy was wondrous thing, even though the forsaken had been wildly rumored to be working on a plague strain, it helped the undead increase their bodies' lifespan and now the Death Knights' too. I wondered what would happen to the Alliance's Death Knights. In life we were enemies, yet in death we were brethren. It was almost ironic that we could only be connected in death.

As I settled my heavy frame on some crates, I leaned back and pondered about going to Thunder Bluff after the task in Northrend to find some recollection of whom I was or someone who had known. Some part of me desperately wanted to know, yet another part of me didn't care for it at all. As I debated inside myself, I found myself easing into rest as I slowly closed my eyes and drifted off into sleep.

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><p>"The Scourge have been restless recently. Lots of ghouls and skeletons attacking the settlements uncoordinated. It's almost as if the Lich King has lost control." the orc laughed. I stayed wary as the scourge had never done things recklessly, they were always under the command.<p>

"Don't drop your guard, who knows what the scourge will do next. Ever since the cleansing of Stratholme the ziggurats have only been humming ominously, who knows what will happen next." our human companion retorted.

We had been patrolling the pathways towards the dead city Stratholme for weeks, and the human's words were true. While oftentimes used secretly by some of the Cult of the Damned, these had stayed empty for at the very least a year. Northpass Tower was the northern bastion of the Argent Dawn, protecting the area east from Stratholme and the pass to Quel'thalas. In recent efforts from the Argent Dawn they had begun fixing the damaged towers and reuse them for their strategic purposes.

We crossed the pathways between the scourge spores, defeating many of the ghouls and skeletons still wandering with relative ease. Suddenly one of the ziggurats started to change the color of the scrying crystal from the eerie green to a more ice-like blue.

"Hold up, there's something wrong with this ziggurat." I spoke, raising my hand to indicate a stop signal. "Look at the crystal. Something is going on inside there.". My fellow guardsmen nodded, branding their swords and shields again. I pulled out the greataxe given to me by the armorer at Northpass Tower, it's silver sheen reflecting in the dim spore-filled light. Slowly we entered the scourge hold. Incantations could be heard murmured from the main room.

I lowered my voice to barely a whisper, "We will first assess the situation, it's probably another band of cultists. Let's just root them out and deactivate this thing, or whatever they have done to the ziggurat.". As my companions both nodded, I stood up and slowly crept closer to the inner chamber of the ziggurat.

As I peeked around the corner, the truth revealed itself. A phylactery was on the pedestal, with five members of the cult of the damned surrounding it and feeding the phylactery a strange icy-blue magic. This was bad news, I knew instantly, and it had to be stopped immediately. As I motioned my fellow companions to follow my lead, I charged into the main chamber, striking the closest cult member. The hit with my battleaxe sent the cultist flying into another as his gut was bleeding from the slice my axe had made. The human warrior accompanying me charged at the other, slamming her shield into him causing a loud crack as the cultist fell over motionless. The orc archer shot at the two on the left side, but they burned away the arrows with relative ease using their magic. The human taking the middle cultist as I cleaved the two the orc was shooting at while they were focused on him, killing one with the initial strike. But as I passed, I could hear a scream of agony come from the human, as I saw a wicked-edged dagger embedded into her armor around her belly. She finished off the cultist with a quick cut before stumbling and falling over, trying desperately to pull the dagger out. The leftmost cultist was distracted with my charge, and a well placed arrow from the orc finished the job.

I immediately turned my attention to the human, who at this point was grunting in pain from the wound. "By the Light..' as she focused her wavering strength on pulling the dagger out. I moved away her hands, took the handle of the dagger and slowly pulled it out to prevent more damage. I grabbed bandages from my pack and removed the human's chestplate and ripped her shirt at the location where the wound was. The wound was big, but I believed it to be a lucky wound as it had not hit any fatal organs, as lucky as one would say that to be. "How bad is it?" she asked, her eyes tearing up. "You'll live. It will be hurting for a while though." I replied, causing her to sigh in relief. I quickly bandaged her and put her chestplate back in place. The orc helped her get up, and she stood clenching her stomach while he supported her. Meanwhile I reassessed the situation. The cultists were dead yet the icy-blue magic was still weaving around the phylactery. I remembered once being told that to kill a lich bound to the phylactery, one would need to break it. I took my axe and moved closer to the phylactery as I heard whispers of the dead enter my mind. Screams of agony, pleas of mercy and unbounded rage were all swimming through my mind, each step making it harder to get closer to the phylactery. I swung my axe at the phylactery, imbedding it deep inside, causing the voices to cease. Yet only one voice spoke, a deep haunting voice.

"You cannot destroy me anymore, Tauren. You are too late." the voice spoke, booming through my mind. As I tried to take my axe, the lich bound to the phylactery appeared. This wasn't going to be good. "Run!" I commanded my two fellow companions, the orc helping the human flee the ziggurat. The only chance we had at defeating this lich was to regroup. I quickly pulled out my axe from the phylactery with great force

"Now not so fast, you will not escape the grasp of Amon'tharal!' the lich spoke, as he charged a frostbolt and aimed it at my companions. Quickly I picked up the shield from the human, and rushed in front of my companions, soaking the frostbolt's projectile causing the shield to freeze. As the human and the orc finally left the ziggurat and started running towards the path towards the Northpass tower, I threw the shield at the lich. However using his magic, he merely moved it out of the way before charging another frostbolt. I quickly darted out of the way of the projectile causing it to hit a nearby wall. I knew I had to secure safe passage for my companions. Instead of running, I turned around and charged straight towards the lich, focusing on doing damage to prevent him from following my companions. As I sliced towards him, he quickly floated back, evading the blow. A charged frostbolt hit my left shoulder, denting the shoulderplate and freezing my arm. Another one was shot, but deflected with my axe, causing icing to occur on the blade. I swung it with my free hand, uncoordinated and hit the lich. He yelled in pain from the silver-edged axe's capabilities to better combat undead, and shot another frostbolt. I was too late to dodge the shot, and my other arm got frozen. I desperately struggled to free myself from the ice. The lich laughed maniacally, "You will do fine for my master's new army." he said, and charged a shadowbolt. Unable to move my arms, I tried to run from the Lich, but unable to optimally move myself from the ice, I couldn't dodge the projectile as it hit me in the back. I felt life escape me as my world went black and I fell over. I succumbed to the darkness.

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><p>I was awakened by a ringing sound in my ears and pounding on my head as I saw the blood elf, Nestariël, whacking my on my head with her staff. "Wake up! By the Sunwell, I can't have you dead! Well, rather, dead again? Hm. I don't know how you Death Knights work, but anyway, we're about an hour from reaching Warsong Hold. Get up already!" she said, still smacking my helmet. I grabbed the top of her staff with my hand. "I swear, if you hit me again, I will snap your twig in half.". I stood up from the crates, and reattached my scabbard to my back, Coldbringers hunger returning to my mind. "What even caused you to zone out for three days? It's as if your spirit just went and left your body to enjoy a party in the Twisting Nether!" she yelled frantically. <em>Three days? I had been asleep for three days?<em> "It happens. I don't require sleep as regularly, but when I do, I rest plentiful." I lied through my teeth, realizing however whom I was talking to, the lie seemed obsolete. "Right, whatever you do, I still need your muscle." she replied. It appeared as if she took my words to be true. We returned to the deck of the ship. In the distance land could be seen, even further the massive dark iron structure of Warsong Hold intimidated the rest of the landscape surrounding it.

"Now, our party consists of us two, a troll rogue, an orc warlock and an undead mage. The troll is primarily there to focus on dispatching and distracting enemies or pickpocketing important information from sergeants. The warlock will be there to banish some of the larger scourge and basically rain hellfire on them. The mage is basically our provider for food and water, as well as freezing our enemies in place or burning them up. And if anyone gets wounded, I will be the one healing the wounds." Nestariël spoke, "I assume Death Knights are not particularly keen on being cast holy spells upon, because, well, undead and all. So I assume you will be able to heal yourself?"

I pulling off my glove and made a cut with Coldbringer, to satiate it's bloodlust somewhat, but also show how my blood magic worked. Slowly the wound closed, the dark energies healing the cut quickly. "That's kind of unsettling. Can you also regenerate or heal others with it?" Nestariël asked.

I nodded, "Yes. However I'd be manipulating the imbiber's blood. It's not a pretty sight, or feeling. Using one's blood to basically use them as a puppet or agonize them was one of the torture methods we regularly used to instill terror or to set an example to our enemies."

"Yikes. Refrain from using that on me please." Nestariël said. The zeppelin started to slow down as we started our final approach to Warsong Hold, with the goblins expertly flying in between the massive pillars of dark iron to port it in the center of the hold. Many other adventurers left the zeppelin and continued on their merry way.

"Come on, we've got scourge to purge." Nestariël said, and confident with her pun we walked towards the exit of the hold, towards my first quest as a free Knight of the Ebon Blade.


End file.
